


Getting to Know Each Other

by astra_romaine



Series: Sent by Gods (working title) [4]
Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Awkward Flirting, Bathing/Washing, Crying, F/M, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-05
Updated: 2020-06-05
Packaged: 2021-03-04 03:13:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,199
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24556732
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/astra_romaine/pseuds/astra_romaine
Summary: Cullen and the Inquisitor have confessed their feelings but their relationship isn't quite what they expected. All they really need is a little push to open up to each other. They sure are awkward, aren't they?This was meant to be a one-shot but it's more like three one-shots I couldn't properly separate. Oops. I just needed to show some ding dang passage of time!
Relationships: Female Inquisitor/Cullen Rutherford
Series: Sent by Gods (working title) [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1813630
Comments: 3
Kudos: 14





	Getting to Know Each Other

**Author's Note:**

> So this fic uses my Tevinter Inquisitor, who was technically Liberati, but low society sucks no matter where you are. It doesn't really affect anything in these scenes, but there are a couple of references that make a little more sense knowing this?

Cullen had invited the Inquisitor to his office to finish some work. It had barely been a week since they had officially made it… official, but they had never been more awkward with each other. When she tried to kiss him, he hugged her, and when Cullen tried to hold her hand, she shook it. Shook it! As if they were first meeting.

But it felt like they were first meeting. Every time they were alone, they fell silent and avoided each other’s gaze. Without the constant bustle of the Inquisition around them, they had nothing to talk about. Had this been a mistake? He still wanted to spend every minute with her, didn’t he? But unfamiliarity was beginning to permeate every aspect of their relationship.

Cullen shuffled the papers on his desk and tried to continue reading a geological survey. Irian sighed across from him and pulled another paper from her own stack. Was she having any more luck than him? Was she having the same doubts as he was? She looked normal. At least, as normal as she always did when she was struggling through her reports.

He felt sweaty and heavy across from her- watching her. The way she chewed on her lip, that bump on her nose, the crooked way she fixed her hair. She sniffed and met his gaze. The heaviness pressed down on his chest.

“Are you okay?”

“Er, yes, Inquisitor. I’m a little- I’m not- that is, well” he sighed. “I’m just having some trouble focusing.” Irian swallowed and ran a hand through her hair. Cullen watched her pull out the little leather strip she used to tie it back and fixated on the way her fingers threaded through her thin hair. A couple strands had formed knots around the middle of the strip and she carefully picked at them until the tie came loose.

Neither spoke until the leather strip was completely removed from her hair, when a simple congratulatory look was shared between them. Cullen felt they had just watched themselves extract a soldier from a perilous situation- or maybe the seriousness matched removing a bug from a puddle of water. Wasn’t there anything to talk about?

“Your hair looks nice tonight.” Cullen tried.

“I, uh, thank you.” Irian fiddled with the leather, watching the way its shadow danced across Cullen’s desk. “Josephine did it for some dignitaries. Do you like it? Should I do it more?”

He swallowed and shrugged. “Not unless you want to.”

She nodded. “Do you have another candle in your drawer? This one is almost done.” She pointed at the stump of a candle resting between them. The wick was flickering in and out and Irian kept relighting it, trying to keep the flame alive. Cullen pulled open a drawer and rustled around.

“No, I think that might have been my last one.” He smiled lightly. “Maybe it’s a sign?”

“Ugh.” Irian snorted and shoved her stack of reports to the side. “I think I’ve had too many signs lately. All this work is piling up.”

Cullen felt a smile tugging at his lips as he leaned back in his chair and replied, “Vivienne would tell you to ‘take a spa day.’ Maker knows she keeps telling me that.”

Irian rubbed her eyes and began tidying up her papers. “Well,” she began, “maybe that’s what we need.”

He sat straight up, now. “Where exactly are we supposed to do something like that?”

“It wouldn’t be a _spa_ -spa, but we could pretend we’re in a bathhouse.” Irian started gathering her cloak and gloves, as if she were planning on leaving soon.

“Would you want to do that?” Cullen was desperate to continue what meagre conversation they could manage. Anything other than being alone in silence.

She threw her cloak around her shoulders and the rush of air caused the little flame of the candle to go out. They sat quietly as their eyes adjusted to the darkness around them before Irian said in a lowered voice, “Would you like to, Commander?”

Cullen was thankful the light coming in through the slits in the wall was illuminating her face and not his own. He was certain there was an embarrassingly saturated shade of red heating up his face as he considered her question.

“You mean together?” He asked. “Both of us?”

Irian shifted her gloves to one hand and held out the other. “Do you want to?” She repeated. Cullen grasped her hand in the darkness. He could feel the callouses where the hilt of her weapon rubbed against her skin, could feel Irian pull him around the desk and towards the door.

Outside, the evening light was almost blinding compared to the darkness of Cullen’s office. Cullen focused on her hand in his own. It was always cold- she was an _ice_ mage- but her hand was also sweaty, and the tendons stuck out when she squeezed his fingers. Irian led him the long way around Skyhold, away from prying eyes, until they reached the baths.

There they were: all the way at the back, in a small little alcove surely not meant for two people. Of course, none of the baths were probably meant for two people. People didn’t usually bathe together, did they? Were they really about to bathe together?

Irian faced him and let out her breath. “Shall we?”

Cullen rolled his lips into his mouth and stared at her. Should he do something? Yes, that’s what she was asking for- him to do something. He took off his boots. She shrugged off her cloak.

He gulped. “Maybe we should...?”

“Yes,” She nodded hurriedly and the two of them flipped around so that they weren’t facing each other as they shed their clothes. Cullen methodically stripped his outer layers of clothing until he was standing in his undershirt and trousers. He turned around and saw Irian pulling her own undershirt over her head. Maker, he could see all the scars on her back and all the muscles flexing beneath them.

Cullen whipped back around and felt a blush creeping over his face. He took a deep breath and took off his shirt, and then his trousers. He quickly slid into the water, lest Irian see him. It was shockingly cold. Did he care if she saw him? She slipped into the water next to him and flinched.

“Do all templars prefer cold baths?” She asked with a slight smile creeping onto her face.

“Uh, not quite.” Cullen scratched the back of his neck. “I haven’t always had the best relationship with magic, so I never got used to using the runes.” He turned away a little embarrassed but her hand on his cheek brought him back.

“Well, a cold bath it is,” she agreed, but what did that expression mean? She looked so regular. For some reason, Cullen had expected her to look different now that, well… Did he look nervous?

“Can I wash your hair,” she asked. Cullen nodded and hoped she would sit behind him so she couldn’t see his face. She stayed in front of him.

Irian lathered a bar of soap on her hand and began to pull the suds through his hair and- Maker, that felt nice. His eyes closed and his head bobbed and he felt his shoulders relax a little.

Irian didn’t say anything, didn’t look him in the eyes, just focused her attention on his scalp. She was so gentle, and their bodies kept drifting closer and closer until his head was on her shoulder and his arms were wrapped around her while she worked. Back and forth, along his hairline, behind his ears, down his neck.

Cullen groaned and twisted his face into her neck as she rubbed the bar of soap up and down his back. Every movement caused the cold water to lap against his body, but the warmth of her torso was pressed against him and held within his arms. He reached his hands up and held her jaw.

“Can I do yours?”

Irian came away slightly and passed Cullen the soap. Her rough hands were white and sudsy as she placed them on his shoulders.

He fumbled around until his own hands were sufficiently covered, then started to scratch at the base of her neck. Irian’s hair was crimped from whatever Josephine had done earlier that day and the bends remained despite the weight of the water.

Cullen loved her hair. He loved the way pieces fell out no matter the knot she put it in or how much effort she exerted trying to stuff it into her helmet. He loved the way it fell differently every day and the way she ran her fingers through it when she was stressed. He loved the way it felt between his own fingers.

“You only have to do the scalp,” she breathed, “the soap washing down is enough to clean the ends.”

Cullen nodded and worked his hands down her back. Her breathing hitched as he ran his fingers over every scar. What had she done for this one? How old was she when this happened? He wondered if they all had different stories- wondered if they still hurt the way his did sometimes.

Her breathing was shaky, as if she didn’t know whether she should let him touch her back. Irian had always seemed self-conscious about the scars she had from Tevinter. She answered Cullen’s questions, or told him when she couldn’t, but there had always been shame surrounding the more physical reminders of her status. He supposed he knew what it was like to be ashamed of your past.

Cullen kissed her jaw hesitantly and looked up for her reaction. Irian slid her right hand up his neck and ran her thumb across his cheek before pressing a kiss next to his eye. Cullen smiled and trailed kisses along her collar bone and across her shoulder. Irian’s hands resumed their motion on his back as they became bolder with each other.

* * *

Cullen picked Irian’s shirt up off the ground and passed it to her. She pulled it over her head, and he returned to tying his trousers.

Cullen had always thought elves had lithe bodies, but Irian had a stocky build. All her training swinging a sword against Cassandra and running across Thedas had given her impressive muscles along her arms and strong legs. Cullen shouldn’t think about her legs though.

Neither of the two bothered to put their outerwear on, it was late after all, and they would be walking in the dark. Up the stairs and back into the main hall. Irian would probably leave to head to bed, but that would mean their night was over. That this feeling was over.

“Will you walk me back?” Cullen asked. Irian nodded and held his hand. Maker, she kept doing that. They strode side by side and a little closer than would be proper for the Inquisitor and Commander.

The night air outside was warm for the season, but the lingering cold made Irian shiver in her thin underclothes. Cullen pulled her closer, just enough that their shoulders kept rubbing against each other, and tried to think warm thoughts. He supposed he could have let her use the runes to warm the water, or her own magic. He trusted her magic, didn’t he?

When they reached his office, they stood again in the darkness. Their hands were disconnected, and they were each facing the black shape of the other.

“Maybe we should have grabbed some candles on our way,” Irian said awkwardly. Cullen could see her silhouette gripping the pile of clothes closer to her body. A few more beats of silence. “This was nice tonight, Cullen.” He wondered if she was smiling. “Good night, I guess.”

No, wait. She was turning away, and she was going to leave and then this would all be over. Cullen reached out and caught her elbow and said her name.

“Irian.”

She stopped and turned back to face him. “It’s late,” he stuttered, “and cold and… You should stay?”

And that worked, somehow, because she clambered up the ladder behind him and she dropped the clothes she was holding into a pile with his, and then they were laying down together and she let him snuggle into her neck again, and- oh, Maker- her hands were massaging up and down his back again and into his hair and her fingernails were so gentle on his scalp and-

Cullen realised that no one had ever touched him like that. Had they? Had anyone ever touched him with such tenderness? With no intents, no expectations? He felt a little afraid of whatever he was realising and pulled himself tighter into her arms.

* * *

When Cullen awoke that morning, he was alone. The sun seemed to be shining directly into his eyes and a light breeze carried evidence that it had grown much colder overnight. There was no one next to him in the bed, not even a warm spot. He rubbed the sleep out of his eyes then fell deeper into the burrow he had made in the blankets and pillows.

If he could see the sun- or at least as much light as was coming through his ceiling- it meant it was late into the morning already. Irian was out hunting today with Bull and some of the Chargers. She had told him. He knew she would be gone early today, and probably back late. Why did he feel like this? Why didn’t she at least wake him up before she left?

He threw the covers off and shivered in the morning air. He had work to do anyways. Maybe someone would play chess with him. Not Dorian, he would probably be able to tell that Cullen was… what? Maker, Dorian would probably be able to tell Cullen what he was feeling. No chess today.

He had likely missed the morning meal by now, and anyways he didn’t want to be around anyone right now. Well, there was _one_ person he might want to be around. No, he had work to do.

Cullen pulled a warm wool layer over his head and dragged himself down to the lower level of his office. He propped his armour against his desk and made a mental note that he had training around midday- or was that when Leliana had asked for that survey back? He had something around midday.

He had avoided this for long enough. Irian was right, there had been too many distractions lately, he had allowed there to be too many distractions lately. It was meaningless, and it made him feel lonely.

* * *

Cullen was hesitant to open the door to Irian’s room. It was early afternoon the next day, and she was probably busy. He had been surprised when Cassandra told him the Inquisitor was alone in her office. Normally, she would be sparring in the courtyard or making trouble with Dorian and Sera. She always gave her attention away; she was never alone.

The sound of the door scraping open and his boots on the stairs echoed around the room. When Irian looked up, Cullen was standing by one of the chairs near the fireplace.

“Do you need anything, Commander?” She spoke rather formally, then cleared her throat and lowered her voice. “It’s good to see you.”

“I was wondering- I had a question.” He started to wring his hands together and a couple beads of sweat ran down his temple. “I- would you like to take another bath?”

“Right now?”

“No, of course not,” He dropped his gaze and stared wide eyed at the floor. “It was silly of me.”

“No, Cullen, I just- “

“I should go, probably,” Cullen said as he turned on his heel.

“No, wait, Cullen.” Irian sucked in her breath and frantically shuffled some papers around before hurriedly writing something down.

She rushed over to Cullen, who was practically gone, and said, “Wait, Cullen, shit.” Irian stood in front of him and tried to look into his eyes, why couldn’t he just look at her? “Are you okay? I want to spend some time together, too.”

“I don’t want to bother you,” Cullen said as he lifted his eyes.

“Don’t worry.” Irian tried to smile at him. “I bet you could help me with some of the reading.” Cullen frowned a little. He didn’t exactly have more work in mind. “Or, something else then?” She looked so carefully at him, as though she were afraid the wrong words would spook him, and he would run off. Was there something she could say that would make him _want_ to leave?

He was still silent, and his hand was on her side as it expanded with each breath. “Some time with you would be nice,” he muttered, “I didn’t see you at all yesterday… you were gone before I woke up. And all day today.”

“Oh.” She dropped her head and paused for a moment, then asked, “Do you want to take your armour off? It looks heavy.”

Cullen fidgeted, practically squirmed at the thought of undressing again. He took off his mantle, pinched one of the buckles over his shoulder, and carefully started to dismantle his protective shell. Irian’s hands were hesitant to help him, respectfully waiting for his guidance. She helped lift his chest plate over his head and suddenly they were standing much closer together.

Irian watched his face as she leaned forward and kissed Cullen’s shoulder. He supposed she wasn’t exactly tall enough to reach much higher unless he bent down. Should he…?

“Do you want to sit down, Cullen?” Irian tilted her head towards the small sitting area in front of the fire and put the slightest bit of pressure on his arm. She was guiding him somewhere, but what were they doing? Every careful word, every question designed to give him a way out if he wanted it. But he didn’t. He wanted whatever she was willing to give him. He wanted whatever they had done two nights ago.

He let himself be led and sat down on the sofa. Irian didn’t sit next to him though, she kneeled in front of him and put her hands on his shins. She lifted one of his feet up and pointed to the laces on his boot.

“May I?”

Cullen nodded, and she broke the back of the knot and pulled it apart with as much ease as if she had done it a hundred times. Of course, she had done it a hundred times, she had her own boots. Stupid. But she was gentle as she loosened the laces down the length of his foot and tenderly worked it off.

Maker’s breath. Cullen might as well have been a teenager. Who else would find someone taking off his shoes so sensual? What did that even mean? It was a boot, a fucking boot. It meant nothing. And it definitely meant nothing when she kissed his knee and repeated the process with his other foot. Since when had he been this easy to please?

“Did you really want a bath, Commander?” Irian stood up and held his hands in her own. “Or did you just want some love?”

Maker, she had said that. Love. He blushed and looked away from her. Could she tell how bothered he was? Every time he was near Irian, he felt an unsurmountable… feeling. Cullen had never been that in touch with himself. Templars repressed their feelings, their thoughts. All in service of the Maker.

But now? Now that she asked for nothing but what he wanted? He didn’t know; he wanted her to lead him. She pulled his hands up and he stood from the sofa. What did _she_ want? What could he give her? He searched her eyes for some clue. There had to be some magic thing they had done that night; there had to be some magic thing he had done on the battlements that day. Where was that Cullen? The one who could pull her body close to his and confess his desires.

Cullen leaned forward and softly kissed her lips. There was a hunger in him countered by an unwillingness to overstep. He wanted more of her. When he pulled away, she gave him a comforting smile.

Irian stepped backwards and dragged him with her. She hadn’t wanted a kiss. His face burned. Their eyes were locked until she hit her ankle on the armchair just a few paces from the sofa. She sat down and pulled him over her so that his hands were on the arms of the chair trying to support himself.

Irian rolled her lips into each other and let out a measured breath before she ran her hand down his side. She reached along the back of his thigh and stopped with her hand behind his knee. The tickling sensation of her hand travelling along his body left him frozen above her.

She took the opportunity to pull his knee up and into the chair next to her, then put her other hand on the back of his other knee.

“Irian, I’ll crush you,” Cullen warned anxiously.

But she laughed, “You aren’t that heavy,” and pulled him into her lap so that he was straddling her and holding himself as far above her as he could manage. His eyes were wide as he gazed down at her. Irian tried to smile again but there was something furrowing her brow. He was intensely aware of her hands on the small of his back.

“Come here,” she coaxed, and pulled him closer to her. Cullen dipped his body onto hers and laid his head on her shoulder. Her hands started rubbing up and down his back again and threading into his hair and smoothing out the wrinkles in his shirt and- There it was again. That feeling.

Cullen released the tension in his body and wrapped his arms around Irian. He sank into her and let himself push against her hands as they massaged his muscles. He pressed his temple against the spot on her neck where he could feel her pulse. The steady thrumming helped him focus on his own heart, but its beating was speeding up and he was growing more and more frantic.

He squeezed his arms tighter around her and felt the backs of his eyes burning with the intensity of his feelings. His chest felt tighter and tighter and each breath came shallower and shallower and soon there was a wetness on her neck where he pressed his face as he failed to hold back his tears.

“Cullen…” Irian sounded worried. “Cullen,” She echoed, “Are you okay? Should I stop?”

“No,” he pleaded, “No, I-” He buried his face further into her and tried to stop his body from shaking.

“Sweetheart,” she breathed, “Will you talk to me?”

“I’ve never felt like this,” Cullen choked out. “No one has ever touched me in a nice way, not like this. They always wanted something. Wanted me to… give them something I wasn’t prepared to give.”

Irian tangled her fingers in his hair and scratched at the skin behind his ear.

“Was this when you were a Templar?” She asked.

“Always,” he sniffled. She rubbed his back and let him sob against her. Maker, he was pathetic. He loved her, didn’t he? That was what it was? How could he tell her that? _I love you_ ¸ he thought, and it was true. It was true. Idiot. Here he was, thoroughly attached to someone solely because she showed him basic kindness and respect. Someone who had enough to deal with already and shouldn’t have to handle all of this.

He coughed a little as he steadied his breathing and lifted his face to look at her. Irian ran her thumb across his cheek and wiped away some of the tears streaking down his face.

Cullen laughed bitterly, “Look at me. Barely a few days with you and already I’m crying for no reason.” He pushed his face against her again. “Maker, what you must think of me now…”

“I think you’re stressed, Cullen.” She leaned her cheek against him. “I think you have a lot of pressure on you, and I don’t think I’ve been much help, have I?”

Cullen felt his forehead wrinkle up and fresh tears press against his eyes in anticipation of what was about to come. She didn’t love him. This wasn’t what she expected. He didn’t want her to tell him they shouldn’t do this. He couldn’t hear that he wasn’t what she wanted. Cullen shifted so he could at least watch her expression.

“I’m sorry I left so abruptly,” She sputtered, “I had an early morning, and you looked so peaceful… You’re always so tired I couldn’t bear to wake you up.” She brushed the hair from his forehead and continued, “I- I didn’t mean to miss you all day, it just happened. I swear, Cullen, I’m just- I’m flighty- I’ve always been this way- but I swear you are worth more than that to me. You are… I didn’t mean to confuse you.”

Irian cupped his face and turned him to look at her. They were very close, right now.

“I never meant to add to your stress. I’m not unsure about what we’re doing, I promise you, I’m just inexperienced. I’ve never been in a position where I could be interested in anyone, let alone where anyone would be interested in me.” Irian tossed her head back and away. “Oh, Cullen, help me. I don’t know how to say this.”

He wiped his face on her shirt and kissed her jaw. “You’re doing fine,” he whispered.

“Is this okay?” she laughed uncomfortably as she trailed her fingertips up his spine, “Does this make you feel better?”

“Yes.” Cullen was serious, and his face burned as he confessed, “It makes me feel loved.”

Irian pressed their cheeks together so that she could whisper into his ear, “You are loved, Cullen.”

He had expected his chest to collapse when she said that, but instead he felt an overwhelming sense of calm. Instead of a racing pulse or intense anxiety, he felt like he was coming home to her, like he had always been there in her arms.

“Do you want anything else?” She asked.

“No, I just want to stay here for a bit longer.”

“Okay, we can stay like this for as long as you want, Cullen.” She traced patterns on his back and pressed her lips against his forehead. “As long as you’d like.”

“Maybe you could tell me about your day?” He ventured. “You went hunting yesterday, right?”

Irian smiled against his forehead, “I didn’t do so well. A couple squirrels in my traps, but nothing big. Krem, on the other hand- shit. You should’ve seen the size of the buck he got. Even Bull was impressed, so you know it had to be big. Fuck, I don’t think I would even be able to lift a damn thing that size. Bull told me to just focus on my little traps, and that someone my size could always live off rabbits and fennecs. Patronising arse.”

Cullen giggled against her and sniffled. She told him about where they went, how pretty the sunrise was, and how she never knew the mountains could be so peaceful. She compared it to Tevinter and Haven and remarked that she would never get used to the size and majesty of the Frostback Mountains. Qarinus was huge and imposing, but it was all built by men and elves and tangible peoples. Everything in Fereldan seemed to have no maker but the Maker himself. She rambled on about how lovely all the mountains were and tiredly yawned as she related her hunting failures.

Eventually, her hands on his back slowed and stuttered in their path. He saw her eyes fluttering as she fought off a light sleep and he settled against her shoulder again. The silence between them wasn’t awkward anymore, and Cullen didn’t feel compelled to fill it with anything. He felt comfortable. He let himself drift off as well.

* * *

When Cullen shook himself awake, the light outside had changed completely. It was approaching evening and the fire had since burned itself into glowing embers. There was a quiet chill in the air and the woody smell of smoke floating around.

He shifted and the body beneath him groaned. Irian’s head lolled as she pinched her eyes closed and slowly returned to the waking world on her own terms. Cullen placed a kiss on her lips, and she leaned into him. Her stomach grumbled.

“Are you hungry?” Cullen asked, “We should grab supper.”

“Mmm,” she cleared her throat and declared, “It’s Dorian’s fault. He made me get used to eating a midday meal.”

Cullen pushed against her to shift himself into a more upright position. “I don’t think I’m meant to sit like that for so long.”

Irian’s laugh was hoarse, and she cleared her throat again before asking, “How are your knees?”

“It’s my thighs,” he exclaimed and stood up fully. “Completely- ugh- cramped. And my hips. How about you? Are your feet numb?”

“A little tingly,” she joked. “I believe you said something about supper though, Commander.”

“Ah, of course, Inquisitor.” He took her hands and pulled her to her feet.

They smiled at each other and Irian leaned forward to kiss him. Cullen didn’t feel the same hunger this time, the same rush to touch as much of her as possible. He felt nice. He pulled her into a hug afterwards and sighed contentedly. When they separated, he sat down to pull his boots back on.

She held his hand all the way to the great hall, letting go only when she asked him if he could grab them some drinks while she made two plates up. They sat with Cassandra, Varric, Dorian, and overall Irian didn’t really pay much attention to Cullen. But her knee was pressed against his calf and she kept scraping extra meat and potatoes onto his plate from her own. And he kept smiling.

He was largely silent, that night, instead focusing on the way she laughed and joked with everyone else. The conversation would ebb and flow: Dorian would talk about some noble, then Varric would tell a story about Kirkwall and Cullen would groan.

It didn’t seem like anyone noticed if Cullen was quieter than usual, or that Irian was sitting much closer to him than normal. He was pretty sure they noticed that he followed Irian back to her quarters.

Cullen closed the door behind them as he followed Irian up the stairs. She had that Inquisitorial look about her again- all business.

“You’ll have to excuse me; I need to finish something.” She glanced at the reports on the desk and went over to the fireplace.

“I suppose someone distracted you.” Cullen said as he helped her stack some wood. Irian smiled distractedly and lit a weak little flame to try and bring the embers back.

“Look at that.” She said of her flame, “Just a glorified candle.”

“It’ll grow,” he said blowing on the kindling. Irian sat down at the desk and lit an actual candle.

“Why would you recommend Modyn over Veloth?”

Cullen sat back on his feet and held his hands in front of the fire. “You mean in the… in Sulevin’s Cradle? Captain Veloth isn’t ready to command those men.”

Irian frowned. “I trained Veloth. Besides, Modyn would be wasted on so simple a task. You can’t pull her out of the north, we can’t spare her.”

“Didn’t the last scouting reports say there was a high dragon there?” Cullen turned to face Irian. She had one eyebrow raised as she looked over the desk.

“Yes,” she replied as if it were obvious, “That’s why Modyn should stay in the north. Leliana’s people are only ransacking some nobles’ estates or whatever. They just want someone to distract the Freemen.”

“Fine,” Cullen sighed, not wanting her to be working. Why was she being so cold again? “Send whomever. I’ll sign it again when you’re done.”

He listened to the sound of Irian writing on the parchment, cursing occasionally at the nib of her pen, and watched the flames lick higher and higher. Outside the wind knocked the balcony doors against each other and Cullen could see little ice crystals falling from the sky.

“Here, I’m finished.” Irian pushed her chair out from the desk. “I can’t think of anything else to add.” Cullen nodded as she leaned over him with the last page and handed him her pen. He scrawled his signature again to approve the changes Irian had made.

“I’ll drop it off on Josephine’s desk on my way out,” he said standing up.

“Oh. I thought you could stay with me tonight?” Irian offered. She sounded a little disappointed at the mention of Cullen leaving. He couldn’t help the little smile at her words.

“I suppose I could stay.” He tried to sound nonchalant but couldn’t hide his smirk.

Cullen flopped back onto the bed and sighed. Irian was seated on the floor untying the laces on her boots. He watched her fingers work in the dim, flickering light of the fireplace as she twisted them off and began pulling the outer layers of her clothing over her head. She carefully folded everything and ran her hands through her hair before looking to Cullen, who was propped on his elbows watching her with rapt attention.

“Do you plan on sleeping in that?” she said of him, so he lifted his legs up to her. She cocked her head with a coy half smile and started on his laces.

“Do you like having your feet touched, Commander?”

Did he…? What?

“No more than anyone else, I don’t think,” Cullen replied hesitantly. She pulled his boot off.

“Ah, so not a foot man. Got it. There go all my plans.”

“Maker’s breath, Irian.” Cullen covered his face with his hands and twisted away from her. She laughed and flopped down next to him. He used his foot to kick the other boot off while she stripped him down to his underclothes.

“You work fast,” Cullen said as he manoeuvred her back against the pillows. “You really don’t mind if I’m on top of you, again?”

Irian shook her head. “If I could fall asleep in that chair I can sleep here. Besides,” she started to wrap him into her arms, “I like the weight. It makes me feel safe.”

Cullen leaned into her collarbone. “I’m glad we did this.” He felt her nod, so he continued. “I was worried that we were so awkward, but I guess it was my fault.”

“No, Cullen,” her hand flattened the hair on top of his head, “We just needed to get used to the idea of, well, all of this.”

“I think we need to figure out how to spend time with each other,” he mumbled.

“I hate to say it, but I don’t think we can spend hours together every day.” Irian paused, then reassured, “As much as I would like to.”

Cullen shifted his knee to a more comfortable position. “I thought if we tried working together it might be easier, but I don’t think we’re ready for that yet.”

“No, but it might be a good idea to try and schedule time together. That way we at least know what to expect, right?”

Cullen chuckled. “Josephine’s really gotten to you, huh? Scheduling time for love?”

“Stop,” she laughed, “and don’t _ever_ tell Dorian. He thinks we should be all over each other all the time. He would never let me live it down if he caught us _planning_.”

“What should we plan, then?” he asked.

“I think we should try to at least see each other every day. You know, even if it’s just a quick kiss or a hug or something.”

“We could take our supper together,” Cullen supplied. “And could we do this every night?”

Irian smiled down at him. “I think so. What else then?”

“Maybe every couple of weeks we could try to spend a few hours together?”

“I would like that. What about when I’m not at Skyhold?”

“We could do something before you leave?”

“Make it when I get back. If it’s before, I’ll have trouble leaving.”

Cullen buried his head in her neck and tried to hide his smile. “You like me that much?”

Irian pressed her knuckles against the muscles along his spine. “I like you more than that.”

“Will you touch my skin, Irian?”

“Yes.”

Cullen shifted his weight and sat up on Irian’s hips. Her eyes locked on his as she watched him pull his undershirt over his head and settle back against her torso.

“Good job asking for your back rubbies and head scratchies.” She said as she resumed tracing the muscles on his back.

“Alright, I’m not a child,” he groaned. He felt her airy laugh on his ear and his cheeks burned, but this was everything he wanted.

**Author's Note:**

> I'd like to write some more scenes with these two, but if I do I will probably transfer them to a collection. Or I won't log on for another few years. Who knows


End file.
